by Cat Chandler
“Not really. Why?” Nicki backed out of the driveway and gave an inward sigh of relief as they headed up the road. She hadn’t wanted to go back in and ask Suzanne for help either.
“I swear you have almost that same outfit in your closet. The colors were slightly different, but it was a fairly good match.” Alex frowned. “I wouldn’t have noticed except she wore a replica of that blue dress you own to the Society meeting brunch the other day. I thought it was just a coincidence, but now I’m not so sure.”
“It was just a dress, Alex.” Nicki shrugged. “Lots of women own clothing in that shade of blue.”
Alex twisted around even more in her seat so she was directly facing her friend. “And the same type of jewelry and shoes? She almost has your hair color, and I’d bet she’d have the same color if she could duplicate your sun-streaked look from a bottle, and she definitely has your haircut. And didn’t you say that she’s trying to become a gourmet cook, just like you? What does she write to qualify as a member of that society? A food and wine blog, by any chance?”
“She’s writing a spy series that she hopes to get published.” Nicki knew that was only going to fuel Alex’s “obsessed” theory about Suzanne.
Her friend rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me. She named her main character T-Bone Brownstone, a secret cousin to your superspy, Tyrone Blackstone.”
Nicki laughed. “Now you’re going way too far out there. I have no idea what she’s named any of her characters, and her main character might be a female for all I know. But I’m sure she didn’t name him or her ‘T-Bone’.”
“Seriously, Nicki. Sometimes you have a hard time seeing what’s right in front of you unless it concerns a dead body. Like Matt’s keen personal interest in you that goes way beyond being your editor, and Suzanne’s bizarre mimicking of how you dress and what you do.”
“I think you’ve all beaten the subject of Matt to death. He’s never even suggested a coffee date much less some kind of keen interest. And he only flew out here to give me flowers because I’d threatened to start writing articles for his competition after he’d acted like such a jerk. So we don’t need to go over all that again. And as far as Suzanne is concerned, she’s probably just searching for an identity since her daughter is getting ready to go off to college.”
“Searching for an identity because of an empty nest?” Alex laughed. “Have you been reading those FBI profiling books as part of your research for those spy novels?”
Nicki grinned. “Maybe.”
“I’m just saying that if you’re making a list of suspects, put her on it.” Alex’s phone chirped, and she quickly picked it up from her side pocket. Nicki knew by the ringtone that it was Jenna calling.
“Hello? Yes, she’s right here.” Alex glanced over at Nicki then smiled. “Probably on her kitchen counter, but you can ask her yourself.” She pressed the speaker button then held the phone closer to Nicki so they could both hear what Jenna had to say.
“Where’s your phone, Connors?” Jenna demanded, her voice filling the small interior of the Toyota.
A picture suddenly flashed into Nicki’s mind of plugging her cell phone in to charge it and promptly walking off and leaving it behind when they’d left the townhouse.
“Probably on the kitchen counter,” she said, echoing what Alex had told Jenna. “Why?”
“Because Chief Turnlow called me. Apparently it’s more acceptable to interrupt a mere web designer than a doctor.” Jenna’s tone was definitely leaning toward the frustrated side.
Nicki and Alex exchanged a grin.
“Having trouble with your draft plan for that giant client?” Nicki could sympathize since she’d struggled over hundreds of proposals for books and articles.
“Only because of the interruptions,” Jenna said.
“How many interruptions have you had?” Alex asked.
“Just one, and stuff it, Dr. Smarty-Pants.”
Nicki stifled a laugh. She could picture Jenna crossing her arms and glaring at the phone from behind her large glasses. “Okay. I gather your one interruption was from the chief. What did he want?”
“He was trying to track you down. He said he wanted to see you in his office right away.”
Puzzled, Nicki’s eyes narrowed in thought. She couldn’t imagine what the chief wanted to talk about that was so important that she had to make an immediate appearance in his office.
“If he arrests you for murder, let me know. I’ll bring bail money. After I finish this preliminary design plan.”
Nicki snorted as Jenna hung up. “Gee, thanks.”
“Of course I’ll also be happy to contribute to your bail fund,” Alex said with a perfectly straight face.
“And gee thanks to you too,” Nicki retorted. “I don’t know why the first person on the scene is always a suspect.”
“Because they were the first person there and usually leave their fingerprints all over the place.” Alex shrugged. “But aside from that, is there any other reason the chief would want to see you?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Nicki said as she turned her little car onto the street that went around the town square. The small building housing the Arson police department sat on a corner at the opposite end.
“But I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
They fell into a companionable silence as Nicki maneuvered around the square and pulled into one of the two public parking spots in front of the station. Fran, the long-time police department clerk, waved a greeting to them when they walked in the door. Nicki was pretty sure Fran had been at the police department almost as long as Arson had decided to fund one of its own, rather than rely on the county sheriff. And it wasn’t because crime was a real problem with the residents so much as keeping the peace during the many food, art and wine festivals held in the town each year. On those weekends, hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of visitors poured into town to enjoy the festivities, and to take advantage of the dozen or more wine tasting rooms located around the square.
“Hello, girls. How are you doing this beautiful day?” Fran rose on her toes to look over the front counter at Nicki’s empty hands. “I don’t see any treat bag, so I guess you aren’t here to bribe me for any information.”
Nicki blushed as she returned Fran’s smile. She guessed she hadn’t been as subtle with her orange muffin offering as she’d thought she’d been. “Hi, Fran. You remember my friend, Alex Kolman?”
“Sure do. I recall I told her to go over and apply for a job at Sandy’s diner. Of course, I didn’t know she was a doctor then.” Fran grinned showing the gap in her teeth on the right side which, along with her frizzy gray hair, only added to her image as a comforting grandma, a role Nicki was sure Fran had been called upon to play on more than one occasion.
“I should have brought a bribe,” Nicki said as Alex shook Fran’s hand. She leaned over the counter and said in a loud whisper, “do you have any idea why the chief wanted me to meet him at his office?”
“I do.” Fran nodded and winked at Nicki. “But I’m going to keep myself out of hot water this time and let him tell you.”
“Thank you, Fran.” Chief Turnlow appeared in back of his clerk. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and a trace of a smile on his lips. “I appreciate that.” His smile grew when he glanced over at Alex. “Hello, doctor.”
She inclined her head in his direction. “Chief.”
“You can join us if you’d like. I have a feeling you’ll be interested in what I have to say to Miss Connors.” He gestured toward his office before turning and disappearing back inside.
“Uh oh,” Nicki whispered to Alex. “This can’t be good if I’m back to being ‘Miss Connors’.”
“Did you forget to pay a parking ticket?” Alex whispered back.
Nicki gave her an exasperated look before giving a toss of her head that sent her honey-blond hair bouncing over her shoulders. Determined not to be intimidated by the chief, she marched around the front counter and
down the very short hallway.
The chief’s office was so small there was barely room for a desk, a file cabinet and two visitor chairs. Since he was already seated behind his desk, Nicki and Alex took the visitor chairs. Nicki crossed her arms and stared at the Arson Chief of Police.
“So what did I do to make this an official visit?”
The chief’s thick eyebrows drew together. “Why do you think this is an official visit?”
“Because you called me Miss Connors rather than Nicki?”
“If I said Nicki Ann Connors, would that make the reason for this visit clearer?”
“Not unless my mother was saying it.” Nicki frowned. “What’s this about, Chief?”
Chief Turnlow leaned back in his chair, which creaked and groaned before going silent. He folded his hands across his chest and shook his head at her. “Let’s see if I can do a reasonable imitation of a parent. How many times have I asked you to get that boyfriend of yours under control?”
“This is about Rob?” Nicki was completely astonished. Why in the world was the chief annoyed with him? Nicki knew Rob well enough to guess he’d most likely found a reason to get on a plane for a scrounged-together business trip, so he could get as far away as he could from any connection with a murder. That kind of talk wouldn’t be good at all for his career.
The chief let out a huge, clearly exaggerated sigh. “Not that boyfriend. The other one.”
“He means Matt,” Alex supplied in a loud stage whisper. “The one who has no interest in you.”
“I know who he means.” Nicki narrowed her gaze on Alex before turning back to the chief. “He’s my editor. Not my boyfriend. He doesn’t have a personal interest in me. And you were the one who suggested I call him after I found Catherine’s body.”
“I only meant that you needed someone to talk to.”
“Which is what I did,” Nicki insisted. “I can’t help it if he called you after he talked with me.”
The chief shook his head. “He didn’t call me. He came to see me.”
“What?” Nicki jumped to her feet. Matt dropped in on the chief? She couldn’t have heard that right. But there the chief sat, nodding his head.
“That’s right. That editor, who doesn’t have any personal interest in you, strolled right in here about an hour ago and wanted to know if I had any new information about the Dunton murder. By your reaction, I’m guessing he didn’t let you know he was coming, but I can’t believe he didn’t call and tell you he was here. Because if he had, I assume you would have discouraged him from dropping in on the local police.”
“She left her phone on the kitchen counter,” Alex supplied before dissolving into laughter.
Nicki poked her friend in the arm with her index finger. “Stop that. This is ridiculous. He’s supposed to be getting ready to go to the food and wine festival in Los Angeles. It’s the biggest one on the West Coast. How’s he going to be there, when he’s here?”
“I’ve heard there are planes that fly between San Francisco and Los Angeles on a fairly regular basis,” the chief said. He chuckled at the glare Nicki aimed at him. “Maybe Matt thought he’d stop by and grill the local police chief on his latest murder case before he flew off to his food festival.”
Nicki plopped back into the visitor’s chair and began to tap her fingers against the arm. She thought it was more likely that Matt had come to be sure she was staying out of trouble. Then what the chief had said sunk in.
“He grilled you on the murder? What did you tell him?”
The chief straightened up and leaned his elbows on top of his desk. “If I tell you, will you promise to get him to stay out of my office and my investigation?”
Nicki rolled her eyes, but nodded her agreement. She would tell him. She certainly couldn’t promise that Matt would listen though. That stubborn streak he’d developed during the last murder she’d become involved in seemed to have taken up permanent residence with her editor.
“Okay.” Chief Turnlow smiled at her. “I told him I haven’t found out anything yet. I don’t have the coroner’s report, and the evidence is still at the forensics lab. I talked with her daughter. She came to the house and verified that it didn’t appear anything was missing, which includes the cash and credit cards which were still in her purse. I’m going to pay a visit to Mario and his staff as soon as we’ve finished our little talk, since the restaurant is the last place Ms. Dunton was seen alive. And that’s everything.”
Nicki slowly nodded, thinking it through. “If nothing was stolen, then Catherine must have been murdered for a personal reason.”
“Or you and boyfriend number one scared the murderer off, and you were lucky not to have been killed yourselves,” the chief pointed out. “And I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t spread any rumors. I’d hate to see the folks in this town start to look at each other funny.”
“After you talk to Mario, are you going to go see Walter Gifford, her ex-husband?” Nicki asked.
“That’s right, and that’s enough talk about this murder.” The chief huffed out a breath as he pushed himself to his feet. “Now you keep your end of the bargain and go talk to Matt. He’s probably left you a half-dozen messages by now. I’m surprised he hasn’t called your friends to try to track you down.”
The words were barely out of the chief’s mouth when Alex’s phone rang.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“What are you doing here instead of schmoozing with the famous artists and chefs at the L.A. food and wine festival?” Nicki had spotted Matt in the bar that took up the whole bottom floor of the Sorenson, a three-star, ten-room boutique hotel tucked into an arbor-lined area just off the square. She hadn’t even taken a seat before she’d tossed the question at him.
“I came to see how my best freelance writer is doing.” Matt smiled up at her before rising and pulling out a chair. He stepped back with a flourish of his hand and a slight bow at the waist.
Exasperated but unable to be anything but reluctantly charmed by his silly gesture and boyish grin, Nicki lowered herself into the chair and leaned back as she crossed her legs under the small round table. Matt signaled to the lone bartender who nodded. A few moments later he brought over a glass of one of Nicki’s favorite chardonnays. Nicki took a sip before she began to drum her fingernails against the tabletop.
“Have you developed some kind of telepathy that told the bartender to pour a glass of one of my favorite wines?”
Matt’s grin stayed in place as he shook his head, sending a thick lock of dark hair tumbling down his forehead. “Nope. Chief Turnlow called and said you were on your way here.”
“Oh?” Nicki’s eyebrow went up a notch. “What else did the chief say?”
Matt took a long slow sip of his beer. “That I should brace myself. You didn’t seem too happy when you left his office.”
“I wasn’t,” Nicki confirmed, determined to lay down a few ground rules for her editor. He couldn’t pop in and out like a piece of bread in a toaster anytime the mood struck him. And especially whenever he thought she might be doing something he didn’t want her to do. He and Rob couldn’t have been more opposite when it came to that. Brushing away the unexpected comparison with her actual boyfriend, Nicki studied the man sitting across from her.
“So why are you here instead of in Los Angeles?”
“I can get to Los Angeles from here easily enough. I’m sure there’s a plane or two going that way.” The hand holding Matt’s beer stein paused in midair when Nicki scowled at him.
“So I’ve heard,” she snapped. “What I haven’t heard is why you’re here at all.”
“You really are pissed about that, aren’t you?” Matt’s mouth turned down at the corners as he carefully set the beer stein down. “Am I to take that as a message that you just don’t like seeing me?”
Now Nicki’s gaze progressed to a full-on glare. “Don’t be such a dense male, Matt. Of course I like seeing you. I just don’t like you checking up on me because you think I�
��m getting into trouble behind your back.”
Nicki did a silent count to ten when Matt’s grin settled back into place.
“Oh, I don’t need to be here to check on whether or not you’re getting into some kind of trouble. When it comes to finding a murder, I know you are. I came to help out in a pinch.”
“Help out in a pinch? What pinch?” Nicki demanded.
Matt shrugged. “The one where Jenna is busy trying to impress her newest, and very big, client, and Alex has to stay in Santa Rosa to save all those lives, not to mention to keep her fiancé happy. And I’m sure Mason is going to keep a closer eye on Maxie this time around now that he’s on to what the four of you were up to over George Lancer’s murder.”
“We weren’t ‘up’ to anything except talking to a few people,” Nicki protested.
“And got a threat to your life. Or have you forgotten that part?”
Judging by Matt’s sudden frown, it was clear to Nicki that he hadn’t forgotten about it.
“So what kind of help are you proposing?” she asked cautiously.
“To be your sidekick. I know my schedule for the event in Los Angeles. I have one of the assistant editors covering most of it, and for the three times I need to make a personal appearance, I’ve got them all lined up for the same day, so it will only need to be a down-and-back. I’ll be gone one day and two nights at the most.”
“It’s nice you feel you can trust me on my own for one whole day.” Nicki rolled her eyes but it was mostly for show. The truth was, he’d brought up good points about her friends and their current schedules, so she wouldn’t mind his help at all. It would also save her a lot of late night or early morning phone calls since she’d talk to him about it, anyway. Then another thought struck her.
“Jane isn’t coming, is she?” Jane was Matt’s very efficient, and very scary, admin assistant. Nicki did her best to avoid any video or phone contact with her, and only communicated by e-mail.
Matt laughed. “No. Jane isn’t coming. She’s going to hold down the fort in Kansas City while I try playing Dr. Watson to your Sherlock Holmes for the first time.”